on the morning of january second, i read a blog post entitled “leaving on a jet plane.”
bittersweet timing, since that same day my two sons would be flying back to the states after their wonderful-but-too-short visit to italy for the holidays.
i already knew all of the words to the famous song by the same title, because my mom and i sang them often the year my sister studied in france. (i was 11 at the time, and i missed her terribly.) so the lyrics kept drumming a mantra beat into my mind as the day inevitably drew closer to the time when we needed to leave for the airport.
“i still have the drive to milan,” i told myself. “still another two and a half hours together.”
but they were both sleeping in the car on the way to the airport, so no last-minute chats. i looked at each in turn, like i used to check on them when they were little, safe and cozy in their beds. and i gave them both silent messages, that ended with “i love you. be happy.” then i turned to look out at the night sky and caught sight of two vapor trails. suddenly symbolic to me, representing my two guys taking off . . . cruising at high altitude, on this journey and in life.
i really thought it would be easier this time. after all, we’ve lived apart for over 14 months now, only seeing each other on three separate occasions during that time.
i really thought it would be easier, but it’s not. when i hugged them goodbye, i felt like hanging on forever, refusing to let go.
they will always be my kids, and i will always be their mom . . . however incomplete the expanse between us makes me feel. i just like them nearby.
i know it’s not a realistic wish anymore. they are no longer little boys. they are independent adults, making their respective splashes in the world. i appreciate and applaud that. and i do believe we are all where we need to be right now.
what a hard transition it creates for a parent though. they are once again far away (even separate from one another), and we don’t know when we’ll all be together again.
i’ll get back into my rhythm soon enough. and i allowed essential time to let the tears flow. (in fact, i scheduled it in.) i was also given one more reminder.
that we’ll all be under the same moon, no matter the distance.
but oh . . . my heart.
a broken piece, that had been temporarily patched up, fell out again that night.
[“leaving on a jet plane” (blog post) written by lisa chiodo at renovating italy]
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Your post evoked tears in me. As a mom, I can totally relate. Your use of visuals here really impacted me, but as usual, it’s your beautiful perspective, sadness, but always finding the joy or in this case, the moon. Thank you for sharing your heart yet again. <3
Oh how I feel your heart April. Two boys of my own, one just left for UNI and I’m holding onto the other one as tight as I can. He’ll be off too in about 18 months. But it is bitter sweet. They have been raised to the absolute best of my ability. They are happy. I am so proud of them. And yet…… sending you, and them, lots of love.
I can’t begin to imagine the day when my two will head out into the world solo.I can picture your boys sleeping in the car on the way to the airport, those beautiful inner conversations we as mothers have with our children, all the love in out hearts,yes that song has a special place in my heart. Especially when I left my mum behind in Australia not knowing if I’ll ever see her again, living away from our loved ones is so hard. xx
much love lisa x
I have never been on the other side, but the first time I went abroad, my parents was excited but sad as well, and the farewell at the airport took forever. We drove, chatted, ate breakfast and thought we still have time, but then that 2-hour time goes by as a flicker. I oftentimes chat with my family online when I am overseas, but nothing beats the warm and coziness of homecoming.
My son is still young, but with many friends experiencing this right now, I understand this is not easy.. as you point out, be happy and proud that they are out in the world leaving their amazing mark on the world. You are a great mom for letting them do that…